


Agrabah: Dawn Of Aida

by astridhearthfire



Category: Aladdin - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Drama, F/M, Magic, Mystery, Prequel, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:05:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astridhearthfire/pseuds/astridhearthfire
Summary: Before the times of Aladdin's adventures, the royal family suffered a series of crises that threatened to tear the kingdom apart. A young vizier works to obtain position and power in order to stop disaster from occurring, yet his plans are thwarted when a once-exiled noble family returns. What will happen when its heiress falls in love? Will he forget his own path? AU, Prequel





	1. Chapter 1

Agrabah

~Aida~

The sand stung at her eyes, but it was nothing compared to the barbs of her father and her older brother. Their envoy was long, a caravan swaying and slithering as it snaked its way through the dunes under the moonlight. Every now and then a jostle would rouse her from her half-slumber, or a fresh cool breeze was drive more granules of the desert against her cheeks. Suddenly, everything halted. She winced as she was thrown against the side of the palanquin, and shaking the daze from her head she would glance outside.

Agrabah. Her entire life, her entire existence, had led up to coming to Agrabah. If she failed in the task she set out to do, no doubt she'd be the embarrassment of her family in the very least… but also the death of them at the worst. She had studied embroidery, poetry, dance, and even the oud. Her writing was as elegant as the famed princess of Agrabah, and she had been told she was as beautiful. However, her sources had been her father and brother, both of whom were putting pressure on her for their own reasons.

Her brother's mission was to capture the hand of the princess. Her own mission was to capture the hand of the prince. For their father, it would guarantee that one of his heirs would eventually inherit the throne of Agrabah if either of them succeeded. He was hoping for the position of Grand Vizier as well, which would effectively make him second in command. As their family was high-ranking nobility, and their military resources strong enough to single-handedly keep the enemies of Agrabah away, they seemed the logical choice for the royal family to marry into.

Or so, that's what her father hoped.

She had her own doubts, but at the sight of the glimmering city soaring above the dunes, she forgot it all. She'd never seen the city, and she'd never seen out of her own family manse. This was something new, something splendid, and it took her breath away. Not even the stinging of the sands could avert her gaze, and in that moment not even the moon could outshine the light of promise and excitement in her eyes.

"Remember, Aida. All you have to do is marry the prince. Father's practically got it all arranged. Don't mess it up." Came the gruff voice from behind her. Her brother stood there at the side of her convoy, forlorn as ever as he eyed the city. "We haven't been back since you were born… since mother. You'll have to grovel a bit. If the prince slights you, you're going to take it. But no matter what, don't forget: you're here to marry him."

She did wince, then. Her mind tried fled from the moment and the pain, her eyes set on the city and dreaming of the doors between her and her brother, her father. She dreamed of a prince that would find her as beautiful as her family claimed she was, a prince that would be her escape. "Don't mess this up for me, either." He released her then, stalked off.

His warning sung to her even as she went back to sleep. The caravan roused once more, they journeyed into the city.

She felt a flutter of apprehension flicker deep in her stomach. The entire day she had heard the voices of those in the palace spreading rumors about her. They were rather clear, and it didn't help matters. Two near-silent women had helped her dress in a swath of scarlet fabric lain with mother-of-pearl and glass beads. If they had noticed her pensive state, they said nothing. They only commanded her to turn once, then a second time as they prepared her hair and applied a bit of rouge to her lips. They set a few curls about her face, then covered her plait with cloth-of-gold. She was able to see herself briefly in the mirror, and that did give her a bit of encouragement. As she turned to thank the women, she noticed that they had already left.

"It is time. But first, let me see you." She knew that older, ragged voice. Her father. As she turned to meet his gaze she could see him looking over her as if he were scouring her. He then sighed, his hands moving to clench together behind his back. "Good as can be. You are beautiful enough, but some of the other girls here are prettier." He turned around to head out of the room, a silent cue for her to follow, so she did. "You are the richest girl here, though. Make sure he knows that."

"Yes, father." Was her reply.

He seemed unsatisfied as he walked past an open courtyard. "And charm him. Smile to him. Compliment him. Find something you both like to discuss. But above all, remember he is a prince. You may be rich, but that is not enough. There are others with their eyes set on him. They lie, they steal, they have many tricks and a lot of experience here already. You've been taught well, but now it's time to show what you can do. You. Cannot. Fail."

"I understand." She said.

A flank of guardsmen were rotating out of their shift, with six of them passing by. Behind them were a line of servants carrying a heavy supply of food for the kitchens. They stopped as her father yelled at them for blocking their path, which gave her a quick moment to look within the palace courtyard. A pleasant fountain was there, with a few women looking to her curiously before furiously whispering. Two men seemed to be debating something rather heatedly, one of which wore robes of emerald and the other of garnet. Whatever they argued about, the man in red did not let go of his position, though his tone never rose to shouting level like the other man's.

With the disturbance her father made, the man in the red robes turned to see the commotion. So startled was she to be looked at by another other than her family, she cast her eyes downward. For some reason, she felt embarrassed. Even as her father grabbed her arm and nudged her along, she kept her head down and followed behind him.

"Raise that chin. You're not a kitchen slut, are you?" Her father scowled.

She raised her chin and took in a deep breath. They had arrived now, with him stepping inside to begin introductions. Then the doors opened to let her in. Her eyes looked ahead, but she didn't see. She had dreamed so long of this moment, and now that it was here she felt herself concentrating so hard not to mess up, that she barely lived within it. The whisper of her dress against the smooth floor was far from her ears, and the sight of those gathered in the room were secondary as she looked to the royal family.

There stood the sultan with a graying beard, her father, and her brother. Next to them all was a man she did not recognize, and then there was another row of who she supposed were dignitaries. A blur of crimson moved past her peripheral vision and she heard a whisper in the background among that line. She disregarded it, and instead kept her eyes locked on her father.

"Sultan. This is my only daughter - Aida." Her father began the introductions. The sultan and him exchanged a look of warmth, a look she had rarely seen on her father. "Aida, I introduce you to the crown prince of Agrabah… Hakim."

She bowed to the sultan first, and having given her obeisance she would then turn to the prince himself. Before gazing upon him, she bowed once more. "Your highness… it warms my heart to meet you at last. I have long-awaited such a day to be worthy to finally look upon you. I am blessed to be in the presence of Agrabah's good and noble prince." She then righted herself to begin looking at him then, a smile at her lips and a blush at her cheek. Mentally she checked her posture, her footing, her pose. "I do hope we may get to know each other, if it please your highness." And then, she garnered her courage to look at the handsome prince of the kingdom.

He was handsome, indeed, but he was not smiling. Not even a little bit. Silently he looked at her, then looked to his father and spoke curtly. "I won't marry her. I am displeased." He then brusquely left their presence.

Her father tried to patch up the awkwardness by claiming her inept, unschooled, and she could practically feel her brother fuming. Her heart sank. "I am so sorry sultan, father, it is my fault…" She tried to cover. "I must have caused offense…"

It was the sultan who interrupted them both. "Hakim has been out of sorts lately. I would not be too hard on yourself. He only received the news he must marry fairly recently, and since then he has not been himself. Besides, we still have another introduction to make later this evening as court resumes. We will be having a gathering then, and a feast. Do come then, and do not worry."

Her family was ushered from the room, and the large doors shut behind them. The kindly intonation of her father disappeared as he commanded her brother to return her to the room. She winced once more as his hand gripped her arm forcibly. They passed by the same beautiful courtyard once more, and it was only when she had been locked away into her room that she remembered that the man in the red robes was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

~Aida~

 

It was time for the feast, and once more she found herself staring at a pair of doors. The bustling inside was a dull roar behind them, beckoning her to join in on the merriment. Finally, there was a heavy rapping, silence, and the doors opened. A hundred, no, two hundred faces cloaked in finery looked up at her in mild curiosity. 

This time she was far from nervous. The illusion of the prince her mind had conjured was now gone, and all that remained was duty. She stepped forward, now aware of the hems of her gold glistening dress she wore gliding down behind her on the steps. The cloth over her visage was now pinned at the chignon against her crown, the remainder of it falling back against her shoulders. A crushed pigment that resembled the shifting aura of the seashell had been placed to her eyelids, and kohl-rimmed their dark depths of chocolate. Her tanned skin nearly seemed aglow from the lamplight in the room, and her frame was a sight to behold in the robes her father had bought for her reveal. 

She stepped down, fearless. She kept her chin raised. As she completed her descent down the stairs there would be a polite bit of applause at first. She seized the opportunity to draw out her hands and to speak. “The moon herself is pale in comparison to the luster and light of this court. May Agrabah forever be plentiful, may she always shine as she does tonight!” Some seemed genuinely surprised - for the verse she had quoted held reference to the poetry of the late Sultana herself. 

They applauded politely, and she inclined her head once. She then strode to her father and brother as she had been instructed to do. The sultan had whispered something to her father, but then he turned to address the court with tears in his eyes. She smiled then, for it seemed her agony in picking out proper prose had paid off to be a fitting tribute. ‘He must have loved the Sultana…’ She thought, a soft smile on her lips. 

The sultan’s voice boomed throughout the courtyard. “Not since the death of our dear Sultana have we been blessed with so much beauty in this court… and today we have not one, but two women entering the court. You have met Aida of the Golden Talwar clan… and now, I welcome you all to meet my daughter, Jasmine.”

The court was hushed as the princess came down the steps. Beauty was not something that could define Jasmine - for she was hands down a goddess in her own right. Her entire gown was a cool, languid blue with serpentine glass beads sewn throughout. Gold thread created waves on the fabric of her gown, and her face was pale as the moon itself. Thunderous applause resounded throughout and reverberated against the walls of the palace as Jasmine was received. 

She, Aida, was now all but forgotten.

“I told you, sister. They are vultures here.” Her brother sneered into her ear. He then strode forward with all semblance of good manner, clapping his hands together. “The jewel of Agrabah… Princess Jasmine, I am only of one clan, but surely all here see the light you have cast in this room, for your beauty is beyond compare.”

The Sultan laughed, then shook his head. “Jasmine, this is Hamad, brother of Aida. Their father is my vizier to the Golden Talwar clan… and they have been welcomed back to court after an extended leave.” He waved his hand, his cheeks red from the drink of the evening. “You are just in time. I was just to ask your Aida if she would dance with your brother.”

The court fell silent once more. As to why she could not say… but there was an unsettling feeling about it. She looked to her father, and he simply nodded. Boldly, she would walk straight to the center where the prince was. He seemed to look through her, but not at her. 

It was clear that the instructions her father gave her previously had been correct. He offered his arm, so she took it. He stepped back with her hand, so she bowed in deferment. He praised her beauty, and she praised his kindness and gentle manner. The music started. He began to dance, and so did she. 

As they moved, so did the others around them. She smiled at him. “You are a good dancer, my prince. I wish I could dance with you all evening if just to get to know you better.” 

He said nothing.

She flinched slightly but tried again. This time she tried ditching the flowery lines she’d been told, and was a bit more honest. “I am truly sorry if our first meeting was awkward. I… well, it was awkward for me too. But what I said was true… I have been looking forward to our meeting for as long as I can remember.” She offered another smile. As they turned together, she saw the strange man in red again. He seemed to watch her, though most of those who weren’t dancing were watching them.

They turned once more in silence. She threw in another attempt, though things were looking quite dire. “I have never seen such a beautiful place like Agrabah, and I was so happy to come. I was born here, but we left shortly after my mother di-”

She watched him abruptly turn and walk away, leaving her alone. The entire court’s eyes were on her as they continued to dance, and a wave of whispers begun. There was a hot flush at her cheeks, and she could feel her father’s eyes burning at her back. Nonetheless, she kept her chin raised. She continued the dance moves for herself until the final chord of the song had finished. When partners bowed to each other, she turned and bowed in the direction of where the departed prince had gone. Her breath was stolen from her, but she forced herself to rise once more and keep herself together until she had moved into the opposite hallway from the courtyard. 

Once alone, she exhaled. Tears of humiliation were hot in her eyes. She shook her head. ‘I have to be strong. I have to be…’ But no matter how she tried, she could not stop her tears. All of her life she had prepared for this and everything seemed to be going wrong. Worse yet, she didn’t know what she was doing wrong, either!

A couple of soft steps could be heard, but she did not piece that together right away. She leaned against the cool wall and braced herself for what was to come, fully expecting her brother or father to be there. She looked up, then gasped. One of the court was here, seeing her in her tears, and seeing her weak. 

The man in the red robes.

He looked caught between a decision, though in the end no words ever came out of his mouth. His hand offered her a cloth crimson as the clothes he wore, motioning for her to dry her eyes. She did so, and he seemed to watch her for a moment. His expression seemed unreadable, though in the very least she could tell he was not disgusted by her crying. Something about his being there seemed to set her at ease.

After a few minutes, she had gathered herself. She looked to his eyes - she could not quite tell the color in the shadows of the hallway, but they seemed to be gentle. She smiled a bit, though he did not smile back. He moved to continue down the hallway, and she stepped forward once. ‘Please…’ She thought, not wanting that gentleness to leave her yet. The words would blurt out of her mouth before she could even think. 

“You are kind, sir.” 

Those words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, then he glanced back at her over his shoulder. Their eyes met - a moment in which she clung to for dear life. She did not want to look away, for those eyes might be the only friends she’d ever know. Somehow, he seemed to linger for a moment as if to sate her curiosity. Finally, he nodded once, then continued on his way back to the court. 

She smiled for the first time that day as she held the kerchief in her hands. The first kindness in this place far from home and home wasn’t kind to her either. Was this, in fact, the first kindness she had ever known? The bit of cloth was furled into a small bundle between her knuckles as she headed back out to the feast.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

~Jafar~

Jafar had never been one much for dancing, for he preferred to watch, observe, and learn what others were doing. It was how he survived when he was younger, and it was how he survived now. The word was that the Grand Vizier position would be opening up soon, and his eyes were set on that. He would have that position no matter the cost, but he had his reasons.

He grew up in the markets, in the crooked doorsteps of the streets, in the half-rotted corners of hidden alleyways. He’d never known a mother or a father, and everything he had earned, he earned himself. He had studied magic, sorcery, healing, and alchemy. He taught himself to read, to calculate, and to write. He taught himself how to manage business affairs until his notoriety brought him to the palace itself. He had a low-ranking vizier position, but he worked hard and his efforts did not go unnoticed. Here he had a bit more wealth, but he was not a noble. 

He would never be a noble, but perhaps his sons and daughters would be. It had all been a part of his planning and calculations to present himself as a suitor to Jasmine. The young woman was unorthodox to say the least, for even at a young age she spoke of changing the law to allow marriage to be with whomever she chose. Surely, she’d see the logic in their union - for in his time as even a low-ranking vizier, the trade had increased by a quarter & the orphanages were not nearly as overrun. He fought for the poor, he fought for less taxation, and he fought for a stronger defense of their borders to maintain the peace. If she married him they could show but the elite and the common people that they were indeed united. 

He didn’t particularly have feelings for the girl, but she was undoubtedly beautiful and had a good head on her shoulders. He appreciated that, but he also understood that she was still quite young for marriage. She was only sixteen, and her father was already pushing her hard to accept a suitor by proxy to marry by eighteen. In his learnings, he felt a woman’s body needed more time before she was ready to bear children safely, and he did not want Agrabah to lose a Sultana so quickly again. In that way, he wanted to protect her from being married off too early. 

As Jasmine was introduced to the man Hamad, he frowned and watched him and his sister. He had been to the rather eventual initial encounter of the young woman and Hakim, and he witnessed the prince’s displeasure. He supposed it was unfortunate for her to have come all this way, especially to a court that was bound to be harsh on her. Their family had not left in the best of pretenses, and no matter how much the sultan enjoyed the company of the Golden Talwar’s head clansman… their departure shortly after the sultana’s death would always be suspicious. From what he could tell, both Princess and Prince seemed privy for this information, for they looked less than enthused to be in the vicinity of the company of the Talwar clan.

For now, he put that aside in his mind and watched the brother as he spoke with Jasmine. He was purely speaking in floral terms and clearly doing his best to seem empathic to her. He seemed well-versed in chivalry, and something about Hamad rubbed him the wrong way. Inwardly Jafar rolled through a mental checklist of narcissistic symptoms as he observed their conversation. ‘Every. Single. One.’ He thought, then turned his attention to the girl. 

What was her name again? Amalia? Aini? She seemed pleasant enough, a passable dancer, her posture was good, her bearing was good… overall, it seemed she was pretty, but not a great beauty. She was just a girl, it seemed. Nothing seemed terribly exciting about her, but he certainly couldn’t see why the prince would be so disgusted by her on the surface level. 

He turned his attention back to the brother and brought his drink to his lips. Jasmine was beginning to look a uncomfortable, and he had half a mind to go interject their seemingly one-sided conversation. However, he knew Jasmine well enough to know that when her threshold was reached, everyone in the court would hear it. It was best to let her handle it and stay out of it.

He was just about to turn back to find a seat when the sultan came over to speak with him. “Ah, Jafar… a wonderful night it seems… for love is in the air, and marriage to follow!” He beamed, crossing his arms and looking at his two children as they continued to be miserable. “You know, the say I am an excellent match-maker, and it occurs to me that you are unmarried, too!”

Jafar let out an uneasy chuckle, taking another sip of his drink. He looked to the sultan, then to Jasmine, then back to the sultan and shook his head. “There is only one who has my heart, sultan, and she’s had it for years. I could not dream of another bride while I still have sights on another.” He gave a wistful smile. “Even if it might not ever be.”

The sultan sighed. “I know you understand, and I appreciate that you have such a tender care for Jasmine… but she has to marry a prince. I’m already considering bending the law slightly if it works out between her and Hamad.” He clapped his hand onto Jafar’s should. “Look, just see her. You might like her. What is her name of the lady I had in mind… oh! -Zahira? She’s my groom’s sister, well, she’s of marriageable age and I think you would like her… pretty girl, and- oh… oh no.”

Jafar had just been trying to grate through what he fully expected to be a terrible rambling about the girl the sultan thought he should marry when he and the sultan both observed the prince’s quick departure. ‘That girl is going to cry.’ He thought, but he was surprised to see she did not. Even more - she kept dancing, even if by herself. “Your highness… Hamad doesn’t seem to be himself.”

The sultan sighed, and there was a bit of anger in his tone as he spoke. “I have tried talking to Hakim, but he doesn’t want to hear of it. He refuses to marry her. But embarrassing her like this in front of the court is not a princely thing to do. Bring him back here at once. Tell him his sultan commands it.” 

He frowned. “As you wish, sultan.” He would rather the sultan solve his own family problems, but perhaps a man-to-man chat would help… though he did not know the prince very well. This whole incident felt unnerving to him, and as he looked up he realized the girl was gone as well. Having not seen which direction either went, he chose to exit the courtyard with the hallway on the left. It was there that he heard a garbled, muffled voice and a gasp of pain. His hand went to the dagger at his side, and he leaned to the side of the shadowed wall to keep from being seen. As he neared, he recognised the form of the girl. 

Caught so unexpectedly by this, he watched her for a moment as he decided what to do. Should he leave her to her privacy? Should he offer to help her? The girl remained there, her hands gingerly feeling her arms and trying to stop her tears. She was so soft that he could barely hear her, and he was almost close enough to touch her. It didn’t feel right to see her like this, especially with her unaware of his presence, so he stepped out from the shadow. Words seemed to be at the tip of his tongue, but what could he say? He wasn’t one who wanted to be involved in family affairs, and he had his own agenda to follow. He couldn’t risk getting caught up in some other clan’s plots, his only goals were the betterment of Agrabah. 

In the very least, he could offer her a way to dry her tears. So he did. He held out a simple square of cloth. He said nothing. He did nothing else. 

Light looked up at him when she saw him, a hope in her eyes. For the first time in his brief encounters of her presence, she seemed to look alive. She cautiously took the cloth from his hand and he could feel her own trembling. He waited a moment, then turned. 

“You are kind, sir.” That voice… it was soft, with a small and uneven vibrato in the lower pitches of her voice. Such was the difference between this voice and the one that proclaimed the beauty of the moon earlier, that he glanced at her once more. 

She may have not said it, but her eyes did. She was thanking him, but for what?

***

He kept walking through the palace but to no avail. The prince seemed to have disappeared, which was… really annoying. He went back to the feast, but instead of entering the area proper, he watched from afar for clues. Finally after a few minutes, it all clicked. The prince wasn’t the only one missing. There was a girl missing, too. A noblewoman, though she was a lesser noble. Her name was Dahlia, and her grandfather was the old Grand Vizier before her father fell from grace. Unless she married the prince, she may well be the last noble of her family as she had no brothers or sisters. 

Dahlia loved the water, so Jafar headed to the other side of the palace with a view of the oceanside and looked up. There, he saw two figures huddled together three stories up against a balcony in the prince’s quarters. He sighed. No wonder the prince had hated the new girl. Not only was he suspicious of her family in regards to his mother’s death…

...but the Prince of Agrabah was in love.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four 

~Aida~

It was two days after the feast, and people were still talking about it. The princess was praised for her beauty, and Aida knew they whispered of her in poor form. She must’ve said something, she had to have displeased the prince. She felt as if there was something they knew that she did not, especially the two women who she recalled from the fountain on her first day. 

She sighed, returning back to her needlework. Alongside her on the comfortable bedding was an expanse of silk woven onyx fabric with a bronze luster. Her father provided it, and she had been commanded to sew her next dress. This was not unusual as she was a capable seamstress - she typically made her own gowns. For now, she worked on the trim - laying chipped wheels of garnet beads against the embroidery work. It seemed all she saw lately was red, a strange thing. The color never had been one she thought to suit her, for it always seemed a bold and flashy color far beyond what she was brave enough to wear. She attached a length of the trim to the fabric and held it up to her shoulder. Her spare hand reached for the mirror, and she looked in curiously. She reminded herself to raise her chin, to look proud, but when she saw her reflection, she softened. 

She recalled then the man in red. A small smile flickered at the curve of her lips. He was kind, even if quiet. She barely knew him, though she wondered why it was he couldn’t have been the prince. ‘He has better manners.’ She then set down the mirror and resumed her work.

It wasn’t until two servants came in to light her lanterns for the evening that she realized the time. Her stomach growled, and a flush of embarrassment graced her cheeks. “Excuse me? When and where is dinner held this evening?” She inquired. A small girl who looked a couple of years younger than she turned to face her, and upon realizing the other servant not would answer her, she sighed and did so. “It is in the sultan’s dining chamber at the top of the hour, my lady.” 

Aida noticed the hesitant expression. She tried to offer her a kindly smile, her hand outreached. “If may detain you for a moment? The other girl is dismissed for now.” She watched as the two girls nodded to each other. 

The servant who spoke to her then turned to face her. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else. “Am I in trouble, my lady?” 

 

Aida frowned, but she had to know why everyone was treating her this way, but first things first. “No, of course not. What is your name?” She watched as the girl looked doubtful of her, then gave it. 

“My name is Dalia.” 

Aida smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Dalia.” She braced herself, for now, she finally had an opportunity to get some answers. “I was wondering if maybe… there was something I was unaware of? At first, I thought it was simply the court, but… everyone in the palace seems to hate me. But I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. Is there any way I can mend things?” 

The girl looked at her, and she seemed somewhat moved for a moment. Aida watched as her resolve returned to her eyes and they hardened again. “I’m sorry my lady, but I believe you ask the wrong questions of me. I am only a servant here.”

She brought her hands into her lap and tried to remind herself of patience. Perhaps a simpler question would do. “Fair enough… of course. Perhaps you could tell me something else… maybe about the prince? Does he have a favorite color or food? Or song? Or poem?” Desperation was close at hand in her voice, and it was all that she could do not to sound emotional. 

The servant thought for a moment. “He reads a book of the late sultana’s poems in the library each evening. He likes blue, it was his mother’s favorite color too.” She then bowed and turned to leave. “I must go, my lady.”

Aida rose to her feet. “Who is the man in red?” She watched as the girl turned back with a look of perplexion on her face before she exited the room. Once more, she was surrounded by silence.

Aida sat back down as the girl hurried off. Not long after, the same two older women from her first day would return to dress her. Her hair was pulled back at the crown before being adorned with her veil. The rest of her hair was left to tumble against her shoulders freely. Rings of gold her slid onto her fingers as two gowns were held up for her selection. “Blue please. Thank you.” She stated. She could read the room - these women had no desire to speak with her. When they were done, she heard her father rapping his fist to the door. 

Once more they would stride through the halls of the palace, this time with her brother joining them. Men sat on one side of the room to eat, with the women on the other side. The grand room was divided by a curtain, so from there she departed the company of her family to join the other women. They all seemed lively, with laughter and merriment filling the room. She offered a smile as she tried to find a place to sit, but each pulled away from her. They mostly seemed to look at her with disdain in their eyes. All of them, but especially the princess… who also wore the cloth of blue. 

Her displeasure was clearly evident, but she seemed to realize all were waiting for her move. She motioned to Aida. “Welcome, Aida Talwar. Come, sit.” 

Knowing her place, she would sit beside the princess and offer her thanks. “You are too kind, Princess Jasmine. Thank you.” She smiled to her as well, but a heavy silence hung in the air. None seemed to talk, and all seemed to listen to their exchange.

Jasmine’s face was a mirage of kindness, though there was a coldness in her eyes. “We were just discussing the feast. I am sorry my brother seems to be… difficult.” A few women sniggered, and she gave them a look of warning. Sighing, Jasmine continued. “It is not princely of him. He should at least get to know you. But we all know what he thinks… what do you think of the prince?”

She was not a fool - she knew this was a test. And in this case, she knew it was best to stick with a consistent story. One she would never deviate from, for her entire purpose depended upon it. She bowed her head. “I love him, and I understand him as best as I can. My entire life I wished nothing more to serve and be seen as pleasing by his highness. I have great sorrow to know that I have displeased in any way. I wish nothing but all happiness for our prince.”

The woman beside Jasmine snorted. “How can you love him? You’ve just met.”

Jasmine admonished her cohort, and it seemed to be sincere. “You’re being unnecessarily cruel… she is new to this, that is clear.” 

Aida felt a bit of reprieve then. At least the princess seemed to be somewhat on her side, though her father’s words of warning had her wary. “It is true we have just met, but I have heard of him for as long as I can remember. I fell in love from afar, and on seeing him I love once again. Did he not learn to ride a horse at the age of five? Did he not master the spear and curved blade by fourteen? Did he not once donate his annals to a school of learning in Agrabah? And does he not to this day still favor his mother’s color?”

Jasmine’s face hardened, and the room grew cold. ‘I’ve said something wrong again…’ Aida thought. Jasmine finally spoke. “Ah, that’s why you are wearing that color. Well, it’s a wasted effort. The prince won’t see you tonight. He did not come to dinner.” She feigned a smile. “Well, marriage is often difficult. Here is hoping you hold enough love for the both of you.” 

The phrase clung to her mind, even after the princess turned away to resume her earlier conversation. She sat there, trying her best to make small talk. It was impossible since none seemed to want to talk with her. She could hear the men carousing and laughing as they had their drink of the evening, and she could smell the food coming out of the kitchens. It was far more than they could ever eat, with plate after plate splendidly displayed before its return, and she frowned. Finally, she turned to the princess. “What happens to the rest?”

Jasmine paused her conversation and plastered a polite expression on her face as she turned to Aida. “Of what? ...Oh, the food? It is disposed of, I assume. Why?” 

Aida raised her chin. “I would like to have it.” There was a pause in the room as the women looked at each other incredulously, then laughter rang throughout the place. She narrowed her eyes. “Not for myself…” 

Jasmine raised her hand, silencing them. “Then for who?” She asked. 

‘Keep your chin raised’ her father had said. “There are poor, even in the beautiful city of Agrabah. I’d like to coordinate an effort to donate any leftover food to them.” She then took this moment to speak directly to the women in the room. “I know that I am not welcome. I am sorry if I have done anything to offend. However, while I sit in this palace, I’m not going to sit here doing nothing. I would like to do something helpful to Agrabah’s people. It is the least I can do.” 

Jasmine looked about her, then gave a small nod. “Very well, then.”

She was no longer hungry, so she used this opportunity to excuse herself. “I will inquire about it now. Thank you, princess.” She offered a smile, then rose to leave. 

As she entered the hallway, she couldn’t resist the urge to peek into the men’s dinner. She moved the curtain aside to see the sultan surrounded by his son, viziers, and other nobles. They sipped from cups of gold lain with stones that stone under the lamplight. She smiled at the sight of her father and brother - for once, they looked quite happy. 

“One should not be spying. It is considered rude.” Came a low, soft voice from behind. The tone was gentle, but it was flat - as if bored. She turned around to face the man in red once more. 

“...You!” She exclaimed, then pointed to him. She watched as he took one more step closer to her before glancing down at her protruding finger. 

“Pointing is also considered rude.” He replied. 

She was sure to have looked flustered as she yanked her arm back down. “You startled me. But it is a happy coincidence…” She sobered somewhat, looking up at him with a bit of sheepishness. “I wanted to thank you.” 

The man had dark eyes that mirrored her own, she could see that now in the better light. He stood nearly a head taller than her, and she surmised his form was of average lean in the swath of robes he wore. One brow rose as she mentioned her wish to thank him. “Thank me?” 

She reached for the tucked away bit of fabric. The square of crimson lay in her hands. “For this, and I meant to return it to you. I asked a servant your name, but she said that she didn’t know of a noble in red.”

He bristled slightly, and she worried that she had somehow caused him offense as well. She was wrong though, for his hand closed over hers to signal that she keep the cloth. “My name is Jafar. I’m not a noble, just a vizier of trade here.” His voice seemed slightly strained at the last line, and his hand pulled away. 

A full smile spread quickly across her face. “I am Aida, heiress of the Golden Talwar. It is nice to meet you.” She could feel the warmth of his hand still against hers even after it left. “Why are you not at dinner?” She asked. 

Jafar shrugged. “Social climates have never been my forte. I go where I need to be, but I’d rather be at work. There is much to be done for Agrabah.” 

She beamed as she piped up, “I was just saying the same thing to Princess Jasmine!” That seemed to get the man’s attention as he looked at her with mild interest. “I saw how much food was prepared, both tonight and at the feast. I am actually headed to the kitchens to arrange that the remainder of it go to those who are in need of it.” 

He motioned for her to follow. “I’ll go with you. I know who you need to speak with. Also, if you’re looking for an institution to donate to, consider the orphanage on the far east of the city. They are further from both the port and the palace, so they could use the aid more. Most of the donations are given to the one closer to the palace. The madame there would be most appreciative.” 

She followed behind him, listening intently. It did not escape her notice that this was her first, full conversation with someone who didn’t appear to despise her, and it was as if a burden had been lifted off her shoulders. ‘If only the prince acted the same… things wouldn’t be so hard.’ She thought. She missed his word of warning about a chipped step ahead, though, and nearly lost her balance. 

She felt the warmth of his hand again on her arm, far more gentle than any other touch she’d known…. But the flesh was still bruised under the cloth of her garment. She winced, a small whimper coming from her throat. Just as soon as his hand moved, she heard him apologize. “I am sorry. I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall. I didn’t think I grabbed you that hard.” 

She felt her arm - still sore and raw from her brother’s manhandling of her, she looked up to him and shook his head. “It’s alright. You didn’t hurt me. I hurt myself the other day.” She blinked, then realized how it sounded. “I mean, I tripped the other day… and injured my arm.”

“Someone should look to see if you have sprained it if it still hurts like that. You might need a cool compress or further treatment.” He asked, though now his hands remained at his sides. 

She shook her head. “It’ll go away on it’s own. I fall a lot…” She then realized he was looking at her as if scrutinizing her more carefully than she’d like. “It’s alright. I suppose I am a klutz, my brother has always said so.” She tried to laugh it off. 

He shrugged, resuming the stride toward the kitchens. “I have seen you dance, and if I recall… you don’t seem to be a klutz.” It was evident he knew something was odd, but understood that he was not to press the matter. “I do not like to get involved in the affairs of the royal family, but let me offer some unsolicited advice. You have a hard task ahead of you, but you’re surely gathered that. What you need to know is that it is very easy to be killed here. Your family has many enemies. You have to start making allies at court. I know you are trying, but start small and work your way up. You will never be one of them, but you can control the harm they do to you if you stay smart about it.” 

She was shocked, for this man was now helping her a second time. “If everyone is my enemy, then why are you helping me?” 

“It is common knowledge that I have loved Princess Jasmine for years, but I am not a noble. Even though I’ve been in the palace as a boy since she was born, that we once played together as children… I am forbidden from marrying her. But if the sultan allows the prince to marry a noble and not a princess for once… then perhaps there is hope for me.” He paused, looking at the door ahead of them. “So, I am motivated for my own reasons. Everyone here is.”

He motioned to the door. “Ah, the kitchens. Salim is the man in charge. He would help you make arrangements. I must return to dinner. Watch your step in the halls, Aidana.” 

“It’s Aida…” She said, but he strode off as she spoke. She cleared her throat and called to him again. “Jafar…” 

He paused reluctantly. “Yes?”

She smiled at him, a sincere look. “I keep saying this, but… thank you.”


End file.
